#himr

Merritt is happily nursing a pint of hefeweizen that has her feeling far too nostalgic, and Finn is off to the side with Karl, sipping at good whiskey over stories from the road. No one’s questioned the pair of them, mostly doing their own thing and quietly chatting with various members of the traveling crew, talents and techs alike, and their coy flirting is accepted with playful jokes before moving on.

Until Merritt is getting a second glass and Austin sidles up to her.

He gives her a toothy grin, head tilted like they’re the best of friends; having a great time. Merritt gives him a sweet little smile before she’s hiding behind her beer.

“You look well,” he intones, practically vibrating beside her. “I thought you didn’t do the whole ‘girlfriend’ thing.” It’s not a question, so she doesn’t answer. “He is all sorts of dreamy, though. I’d give him all sorts of special treatment.”

“Are you done?” she asks, trying not to be half as amused as she is. “Or are you still upset that I had to cancel your retainer early?” She flutters her eyelashes sweetly behind another sip. She knows Finn is watching; she knows his jealous streak runs wide and his possessiveness deep. She gives an over-exaggerated wince. “That must smart, baby.”

Austin cracks laugh, always having had a good sense of humor, and he backs of his fingers are gentle as they brush her forearm. “Sharp as ever. I’m glad, even if my ego is bruised.”

Merritt doesn’t think either of them are surprised in the least when Finn is suddenly pressed up behind her, arm protective and low around her waist. He gives Austin a tight smile, fingers splayed along her belly.

Austin looks far too pleased.

Merritt turns her head to look up at Finn, having every intention of assuring him that things are fine, Austin is an old “friend” that thinks he’s cute, but Austin of course beats her to the punch.

“Absolutely adorable,” he coos. “Perfect, even. Look at you two.”

She rolls her eyes.

“T’ank you?” Finn replies, his grip on her slowly gentling.

Austin cackles.

“He knows, Finn,” she whispers, letting her nose press to his neck, trying to play if off for anyone watching as a cute little bid for attention. It’s an added bonus if it keeps him calm. “Austin was one of my recently dropped contracts.”

Finn goes rigid behind her, eyes hard as he takes it in. He carefully shifts them, putting himself between Merritt and Austin, and she’s against the bar where he trusts himself to keep her safe and away from harm. “Our business isn’t any of yours,” he says, dark and quiet. “And it certainly doesn’t go farder dan dis. We clear?”

Austin holds up his hands, still smiling mirthfully. “I’m not going to go broadcasting it that your new girlfriend is, in fact, a prostitute.” Merritt flinches, looking away, and Finn’s jaw ticks, making himself keep it together and not cause a scene. “I’m certain that won’t play out well for any of us,” he continues. “I just came over to say hi, catch up, and maybe ruffle the feathers of the guy that took away my favorite Monday night after party.”

She swallows hard around a gulp of beer, hating the way it sounds. She doesn’t expect her clients to see her profession the way she does, but after spending the last two months with Finn, it’s become so easy to forget who she really is, so caught up in their time together. “That’s enough, Austin,” she tells him quietly, pressing herself even tighter against the bar.

Finn, instead, pulls her against him, not letting her retreat. He isn’t intending to let this continue on any longer, and he’ll be damned if he lets this go. He leans down, pressing his lips to her ear. “We’re goin’.” He kisses just behind the shell of her ear, keeping her tucked under his arm. When he turns back to Austin, his smile is wide, all sweet and disarming, but Merritt can feel exactly how tense he still is. “It was good to catch up, yea lad? T’anks for gettin’ our tab.”

Austin rolls his eyes, pulling out his wallet and waving them off, always the good sport.

Merritt keeps herself snuggled close to Finn’s side, nose pressing against his pec. She hates how awkward she feels; first the whole mess with her family, and now for the first time in her career, she feels the smallest seed of shame over her career. “I’m sorry,” she whispers as the pair of them finally break past the doors of the crowded bar and into the street.

Finn’s heart crashes to a halt, his feet in their tracks. They stand in the street lights, far enough away from the busy front of the bar that the sounds are bleeding together as white noise. He gathers her up, holding her to his chest. “Don’t be. It’s not yer fault he doesn’t know how to act in public.” He presses his lips to her forehead, letting them linger there.

Her hands bunch in his shirt, the roiling in her head and heart slowly quieting. “You’re not mad?” She looks up at him shyly, some part of her wishing he is.

He tips her face gently, kissing her lips. “Not at you. Just at his lack of manners.”

She nods, waiting until her face in pressed into his shoulder to let out a deep breath. “Me, too. I usually don’t mind his silliness, but I just wasn’t ready for it tonight.”

Finn swallows around the lump in his throat, the two of them all alone in their own world, the city blissfully quiet around them. “Can I ask you somet’in’?” he asks, sounding unsure of himself, and it makes Merritt so unsure of everything. When she just nods against his chest, breathing him in, he takes a small step back, needing to catch her eyes. “Not Finn to Merritt; Fergal to Eleanor.”

Her breath catches at the sound of her name on his lips, and she’s caught off guard, but her fingers grasp at him even tighter. “Yes. Y-yes, of course,” she whispers, a flurry of emotions in her chest. “Anything.”

“Is dis okay?” he asks, voice gone quiet and soft and uncertain. “Are we okay?” He wants to say more, but he isn’t sure how to put it to words, how to ask her the questions he’s been dying to for weeks now.

She nods slowly, her arms reaching to wrap behind his neck. “Yes. I’d tell you if we had a problem.” She means it, too. She’d never been afraid of telling anyone to fuck off just because they were paying her.

“He had a point, t’ough,” he sighs, eyes closing. “You’ve always said you didn’t do dis, da whole ‘girlfriend’ t’ing. We never said it was a part of dis, but here you are. You came out with me. You met my friends, my boss…” Finn stops, shaking his head. “I guess I wanted to know if dis was just a part of the deal, or if it’s somet’in’ else?”

Merritt’s heart is in her throat because of course he’s right. Of course this thing between them has never been so cut and dry as a simple contract; she was always breaking the rules for him and letting him deeper and deeper in. “You read the contract, Fergal,” she says by way of answer, and her voice is so quiet as she says his name, his real name for the first time in the two weeks since the fiasco with her phone.

Finn can’t decide if her wants to scream or kiss her. Of course she couldn’t just answer the question and let him in, but he sort of supposes thats’s what she’s been doing all along. “Come back wit’ me, Elle.”

She shivers as she presses into his space tight as she can. She’s up on her toes, pressing a soft peck of a kiss to his lips. “I’m not that kind of girl, Ferg,” she whispers, giggling when he groans. “But I guess I could, just this once, make an exception.”

Finn kisses her once more before pulling back, turning them to walk towards their hotel. He keeps her tucked under his arm, safe against his side, intending to never let her go again.

—

Fergal flips through the contract, barely paying the words mind, before he tears it neatly down the middle. He looks up, happy little grin on his face as he meets Eleanor’s eyes. “Whoops.”

Eleanor rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling too. “That was no whoops,” she accuses, settling herself into his lap primly. She squeals happily when his hands find her hips, tugging her closer and kissing her lips.

He smacks playful kisses wherever he can reach: over her shoulders, cheeks, throat, and finally stopping at her nose. “And if it wasn’?” He ducks to press a kiss between her exposed breasts, lingering on the freckle that resides, just to the right.

She pushes at his shoulders until he’s laying down across their plush bed, equally naked in their quiet bedroom, in their small house in Sarasota. Her body, not nearly as long as his, stretches out along the length of him, his hips pressing to her belly. Her hand teases up his thigh, smacking him with just enough force to sound out a dull thwack. “Did we ever try this?” she asks, looking suddenly thoughtful. “We’ve tried just about everything else.”

He shrugs one shoulder, happy to watch Elle’s small body try to pin him down. “I don’ t’ink so. Somet’in’ about you not trustin’ anyone to do it right.” He grins as her eyes roll, because it really does sound like something she would say, whether she did or not. He lets his palm come down once, not too hard, palming her ass and massaging in the warm sting.

Elle whines quietly, hips rolling as she grinds herself against him. “That doesn’t sound right at all.”

Fergal’s head tips back with laughter, rolling them over to smother her with kisses, because he can. “No?” he breathes against her mouth as he moves her how he wants her, hand coming down again once her knees are hooked up over his shoulders, her creamy thighs begging to be kissed and bitten. He spanks her again, watching her with rapturous wonder as she moans and writhes under him.

She arches her back, pink peaked breasts trembling as they move together. “Stop being a tease, Ferg,” she begs quietly. She’s knows he knows exactly how wet she is for him already. She plants her feet on his back, hips rolling and opening up, letting him get a good look at her pretty pink slit, soaked as it is.

He dives in to steal a taste, sucking wet kisses the whole way from her clit to her perineum and back up again. He licks his lips slowly, watching her pant and moan and shake apart, all for him. “What was dat, Love?” he asks teasingly. “What do ya need?”

She groans, one of her legs slipping from his shoulder and to his waist, trying to tug him closer. “Fuck me already, Ferg,” she whines, hips wriggling invitingly. “Show me who I belong to, for real this time.”

Elle’s words do exactly as she wanted, Fergal snapping to attention as he rocks against her. He nips at her mouth, a sharp little warning as her buries himself inside her. Her grin never falters, through mean kisses and his tongue slipping between her lips possessively. She knows all his buttons, and he loves her for it. His hand comes down against the curve of her ass, sharp and loud, and she’s clenching around him so hard that he can barely move or breathe. “What was dat again?” he growls, all teasing and dark before he steals her response but sucking at her tongue.

She moans brokenly, kissing him wet and messy, and his tongue is sweet with a taste of her. She rocks against him, hands in his hair, tugging at the short strands, not letting him break their kiss. She loves having him like this; when he wants to prove something, and all of his intensity and focus is solely on her. She revels in it, body arching up to meet his thrusts, wanting to feel every inch of his body against hers and every inch of him inside her.

Fergal’s hands grip her hips so tight, short and trimmed nails digging into the perfect skin there. He’s got her nearly bent in half, he’s swallowing her sweet little gasping moans, and he’s the other side to her coin; she picks and teases with all the right words to drive him mad, but he’s the one taking her breath and words away and leaving her mindless with want. He grins against her lips, tongue teasing hers as he licks into her mouth.

She keens, nipping at his mouth as she sneaks a hand down between them. She’s so close, the thick head of his cock is near constantly pressing into that perfect spot inside, his fingers leaving dappled bruises on her hips, she can feel them already, and all is does is bring her even closer.

Fergal catches her hand though, fingers curling around her wrist and pinning it above her head. “You’ll come from my cock,” he breathes into her mouth, his voice barely more than a low growl that’s nearly lost under the sound of his hips pistoning into her, “or you won’t come at all.”

Elle cries out, practically a sob. She’s so close, just needing that little push over the edge. “Ferg. Ferg please, baby,” she begs, clenching down tight around him. He growls once more, and she thinks he really isn’t going to let her, that he isn’t going to give her that little push she needs, and then his hand is connecting once more with a sharp smack to her ass. Her vision whites out, back arching up and pressing her breasts against his chest and her body quakes with her release on a long, breathy moan of his name.

He leans down to mouth at her breasts, nipping and sucking at the hardened buds of her nipples. His thrusts slow, he’s so close himself, but he wants to watch her basking in the pleasure that he gives her, and he wants her to watch him find his within her. He tugs at her nipple, caught between his teeth, the tremors and shakes of her release slowly quieting until she’s mewling and whining with oversensitivity. “Beautiful, Love,” he purrs, hips slowly grinding into hers.

She whimpers, one last long shiver of pleasure running down her spine. “What are you waiting for, an invitation?” she teases, voice raspy. “I want you to come in me, Fergal. I’m all yours.”

He groans, hips rocking into hers a little harder, a little faster, but still measured and slow. “I’m tryna’ last, Eleanor, but you’re makin’ it damn hard.”

She giggles, soft and happy, pulling his mouth back to hers. She kisses him deeply, not bothering to tamp down on letting him feel just how much she wants him. “But I wanna feel you. You gonna keep me waiting?” she huffs, nipping at his lips playfully, soothing the brief hints of pain with her tongue.

Fergal groans, sealing his mouth over hers as he lets his thrusts get less controlled, resolving to give her exactly what she wants, like he could ever deny her. His moans go breathless, her core clenching around him, trying to urge him on. With the first twitch of his cock, the first surge of his orgasm, he grinds himself as deep as he can inside her, lips parting on a gasped moan.

Elle purrs happily, hips wriggling at the feel of each pulse of him inside her. She presses kisses all over his face, sweet and happy, pressing their noses together when he finally starts to kiss back sluggishly. She giggles quietly, her hands running down his chest, feeling him up unrepentantly, before reaching around to playfully smack his ass. Her laughter is smothered by a moan, his hips pressing hard to hers once more, milking one last spurt from him.

“Spoiled brat,” Fergal complains halfheartedly, burying his face in her neck. He nips at her, a petty little revenge, worrying her skin between his teeth, leaving a faint red mark behind because he can now. He shifts away slowly, slipping from her with a little groan, kissing his way back to her lips.

“You love it,” she teases right back. She beams up at him, arms around his neck so he can’t go far, enjoying the feel of his weight pressing her into their bed.

“I love you,” he corrects her, rubbing their noses together, because it’s the truth. Despite their endless teasing, the way they constantly are pushing each other’s buttons, he thinks he has since the very beginning. “Even if you do have a smart mouth.”